


“There's no point in saving the world if it means losing the moon.”

by notjustmom



Series: Tom Robbins Remix [8]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Established Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, M/M, Post-Reichenbach
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-26
Updated: 2018-03-26
Packaged: 2019-04-08 09:12:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14102142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notjustmom/pseuds/notjustmom
Summary: A couple of days after the Fall...





	“There's no point in saving the world if it means losing the moon.”

For the first time in sixteen, no seventeen days, the sun was shining and not a single fucking cloud blotted the bright blue sky, nearly the colour of Sherlock's eyes when they sparkled as he solved a difficult case, or right before - no. NoPe. He couldn't go there, not now, not until he was back home at Baker Street again.

He looked out into the sea of faces, a few he loved and trusted, some he positively loathed, and the others were simply witnesses to the biggest lie he would ever tell. And God knew, at least Sherlock knew from that very first day, that he was a terrible liar. He nearly laughed out loud until he saw one last figure slip into the press room, lean against the wall, and remove his hat. He had promised, and he had never broken a promise, yet, not one that mattered.

John took a sip of water and cleared his throat, he didn't have to fake the tears that were threatening to overwhelm him, but he somehow shook them off and glared at Mycroft's comical mask of neutrality. He had seen what lay beneath the mask earlier that week, when Mycroft had tried in vain to talk Sherlock out of his "...ludicrous plan, egotistical, arrogant and completely unnecessary" - had even lowered himself to admit he might actually miss him, though that was far less believable than the rare outburst of anger, and Sherlock had merely looked bored, as he showed his brother the door.

"Nice to see so many friendly faces here today." A hush fell over the room and John chuckled in order to lighten the mood. "He would have been gratified - no, actually, if he could be here in my place, he wouldn't. He'd be back at Baker Street, impatiently waiting for the next client, or attempting to blow up the kitchen again. He never had much use for publicity, or the public, or people, to be honest. And yet, I was lucky enough to be considered his friend. And he was mine, the best friend I ever had, and I know, in my heart, that he never, ever lied to me. Except possibly when he promised to pick up milk." He watched Lestrade's face change at that and heard Molly's nervous giggle somewhere close by, but knew better than to search her out. "He would, if asked, but you lot never bothered - he would tell you that he wasn't extraordinary, or remarkable, he just simply observed what was in front of him and drew conclusions from those observations. And, yes, he could be rude, ruthless and downright cruel, but he was also the best, bravest and kindest man I will ever know." He watched as Sherlock replaced his hat and slipped from the room. "That is all I have to say, and I won't be taking any questions. Good afternoon."

 

Nicely done.

It was dull.

Sufficient.

Thank you.

Back home soon.

I know.

 

"He'll make it home, John. He promised."

"I know, Hildy."

"Before -"

"Hildegarde - "

"Let me say this one thing - how I know he'll be back, and then I won't say another word."

John closed his eyes and nodded.

"He was different before he met you, he didn't take care of himself, because he didn't think he deserved to be loved, but now he has you. He has you to come home to, John. He will make it home."

"Ta, Hildy. But, I should have gone with him, he shouldn't be on his own."

"Nah, that's foolish chatter and you know it. He needs you here, at home, safe, so he has something to come back to."

"I know, Charley - but it doesn't make it any easier."

"No one ever said love was easy."

John laughed and turned out the lights. "Nope, no one ever said that. Night all."

"Night, John."


End file.
